


Be My Mistake

by great_skies1



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Not Beta Read, POV Simon Snow, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Post-Book 1: Carry On, Pre-Book 2: Wayward Son, Simon Snow's Wings and Tail, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Loves Simon Snow, a lil more angst than fluff?, simon snow talks it out, their relationship has been a whirlwind thus far, they decide to take it slow, they have a healthy conversation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24456766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/great_skies1/pseuds/great_skies1
Summary: It’s been a while since Simon and Baz have talked face-to-face, let alone actually kissed. But after a candid discussion about Simon’s current state of mind, they decide to take things slowly for the night, and try their best to do what Simon does best—not think.A short, pre-Wayward Son fic about the boys talking things out and taking it one step at a time.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 10
Kudos: 80





	Be My Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> First official fic for this fandom! Woo hoo! 
> 
> This was written after seeing the "slow" prompt from [@carryonsparks](https://carryonsparks.tumblr.com) on tumblr! I wanted to write something that was a little bit angsty, as that perfectly demonstrates the snowbaz's dynamic leading up to wayward son, but I also wanted to indulge my fluff loving self, so I tried to give a healthy dose of both!? I hope that it you enjoy this, and that I (maybe?) did our boys justice.
> 
> Also, since I'm pretty new at this fanfic thing, constructive criticism is always appreciated and (frankly) adored!
> 
> And finally, yes. The title of this fic was unashamedly taken from the very beautiful 1975 song called [Be My Mistake](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ShahyF9xr4)

**Baz**

Simon Snow is lying on the sofa. I’m standing in the doorway, trying to figure out how to approach him without causing another fight. I’m sure that walking right into his apartment had caused some kind of alarm, whether or not it was enough to get him off the couch. But the television is blaring, and Simon really isn’t his most perceptive self these days, so he might not have even heard me at all. 

Bunce had insisted that a surprise visit would do Simon some good, and maybe give him enough energy to stand up and move. I wanted to argue that Snow would not be appreciative right now—and that he probably wouldn’t get up for anyone—but fighting with Penelope Bunce is a hopeless battle, even for one as persuasive as myself. So I didn’t say a word, I just took the spare key and drove all the way here from my parents’ estate. 

After standing there silently for a few minutes, (looking like a complete oaf, I might add,) I decided that there’s just no  _ right  _ time to approach him, so I might as well just bloody well do it and hope for the best. We may be snogging, but I still have to tiptoe my way around Simon sometimes, like he’d go off on me for any sudden movement. 

He's been snapping at me or Bunce quite often these days, whether we want to help him get off the couch or just make him a cup of tea. I know he’s not upset at _us_ necessarily, just upset at the world, and the way that his entire universe crumbled before his very eyes. I’ll never understand what that’s like—to have the only place that’s ever been considered home be taken away from you so abruptly. Or to have your one certainty in life—that you’re the bloody _Chosen One_ —be stripped away from you so suddenly, without a trace of the power you once held inside. I guess he’s gained a pair of dragon wings and that ridiculous tail, but those do nothing but remind him of what he’s done, and how there’s no turning back to the world we all once knew. It’s true though, as much as he may deny it, but Simon saved the day in the end. He’s the hero of this story, and I’m lucky enough to be alive to see it. _Merlin_ does fighting not give me the satisfaction that it used to—not when I can be touching him softly instead.

I approach the back of the couch, hoping that he’d at least turn to acknowledge my presence. He has to at least have  _ some _ desire to see me, I’ve been gone for two and a half weeks visiting extended family. We’ve hardly spoken since I left, as I barely had the time and Simon does everything he can to avoid conversing with me nowadays. 

He didn’t turn off the television, or even lower the volume, but he did turn to face me. Simon looked up at me with those piercing blue eyes as I felt my heart leap from my chest, exactly as it has every day since the Crucible’s fateful decision. 

“Oh, you’re back.” 

**Simon**

I knew he would be coming back soon, but not  _ this  _ soon. (I don’t know if I would have done anything differently if he arrived on time, since I’m just that pathetic nowadays.) 

He looks good. Really good. He’s got this flowery button-up on, showing off his collar bones and strong arms, and those bloody fucking jeans that make me right about swoon. I think he was looking forward to wearing his own clothes back at Watford—to finally have the chance to express himself fully. It’s like he can actually show himself off now, while I’m just trying to hide away and drown my troubles in cider and crisps. I hope he didn’t come straight here, or felt like he had to come in to check on me. I hate how I’m being such a burden for him and Penny while they’re out living their lives and accomplishing things. 

I’m trying to come up with something pleasant to say, or somehow express how much I’ve missed him. (I  _ have,  _ even though I haven’t been showing it.) But my brain can hardly do anything these days, so when given the chance to finally redeem myself, I just state the obvious and turn back to the Law and Order rerun playing on the TV. 

“I wanted to see you,” he said, grabbing the back of the sofa.

I barely grunted in response. I want to get up and wrap my arms around him, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. I’m only in sweats and Agatha’s old lacrosse sweater, plus I must smell disgusting. He wouldn’t even want to be near me right now if he didn’t think that I’m falling apart at the seams. 

“I missed you while I was gone,” he sighed. “I hope this is a pleasant surprise.”

He lightly touched the hand lying on top of his chest, as if he’s asking permission. My heart started beating faster, and he must’ve been able to tell. So much of me wanted to turn away and tell him to piss off, but he’s here and his hand feels so cool. Like a stream of cold water tampering out an open flame. 

“I missed you too,” I said softly. I knew he’d be able to hear it, heightened senses and all. 

He gently intertwined our fingers. It feels so good, his smooth hand pressed against my calloused one. I know I don’t deserve it, though. And I know Baz deserves better. 

“You shouldn’t have come so soon,” I added. “You should go see Fiona.” 

“There’s a reason why she didn’t show up to the family reunion. She is incredibly busy at the moment, and I would rather not engage in casual conversation with my aunt when she has her mind set on something.” 

“I’m not much fun to talk to either,” I said. 

“I beg to differ.” 

We stayed silent for after that, just holding hands and staring at each other. I turned off the telly, and for the first time in a month, tried my best to embrace the silence. I was never good with keeping things quiet—I always used to be the one to fill in the empty gaps during conversations. But after last year and everything that’s happened, I can’t stand it at all. Silence means that I had to confront my thoughts, every awful last one of them. It just hurts too much to think now, so I drown out my own head with anything that makes enough noise. 

My therapist is always telling me to be present and in-the-moment, so that the intrusive thoughts can pass by like floating clouds. I’m trying to focus on Baz, since it’s just so easy to be distracted by him. He’s here now, right where I want him, but why do I still feel so awful? Why do I want him to leave, when touching him feels so good? 

_ He doesn’t want you. He’s always been out of your league, there’s no denying that. He’s going to break up with you right now, that’s why he’s here so early.  _

“Can I sit down next to you, love?” 

I nodded my head. My head and my body are at war again, and my body just won. For now. 

Baz moved a throw pillow at the end of the couch, and sat down by my feet. I sat up, and because I’m weak and pathetic, positioned myself so that my head could rest on his shoulder. He put his arm around me, and for a moment, it felt like we were back in his room in Hampshire, touching and kissing and stumbling around like terrible boyfriends. Merlin, I didn’t think that I’d be _ this _ bad at it.

“You know Mordelia is really starting to prove herself to be more Pitch than Grimm.” he started. “She got into a rather heated debate with my great uncle about the ethics and sustainability of free-range unicorn farming without letting her gaze fall for a second. I would never tell her so, but I think she might be my favourite sibling.” 

I let out a huff through my nose. I’m glad that Baz is the one filling up the silence now, without any of his usual snarl. He’s real soft with me now, and it makes me want to both shove him and kiss him at the same time. 

“You know, it’s also tradition for each of the men to be paired off with a woman for a dance during large events like these. And before you say so, this is  _ not _ meant to have any incestuous implications.” 

I actually laughed that time. “I wasn’t even thinking ‘bout that, but now that you say so…”

“Don’t you dare, Snow. It’s just an audacious tradition, and I dread it every year.” 

I nudged him. This is good, just sitting here and talking like nothing’s happened. Like we’re both pulling our weight with this whole relationship thing, and my life hasn’t been completely destroyed in the past six months. 

“You would think that there would be an odd number at some point, and I would get to be the lucky bastard who gets to sit this one out. But no, oh no. I got to dance with my second cousin Doris once again this year, and the experience sure did live up to expectations.” 

“What did she do?” I asked.

“She pinched my cheeks, for starters, which is not at all acceptable when you’re over the age of nine. Then, she could not stop describing how I’ve grown into such a man these past few months, which is awfully unsettling given the undertones of the exercise.”

“Crowley, Baz.” I couldn’t stop laughing. I know he probably thinks I’m being obnoxious, but pleasant feelings are so rare to come by nowadays, so I hold onto this one for dear life. 

He scoots over even farther, so that our hips and thighs are pressed together. “I wish you could have been there. You would have made it tolerable.” 

“Just tolerable?” I said. 

“Alright, maybe a little more.” 

He bumped my nose with his. I tried not to let the thoughts in. 

_ Why would he want to be with you? You can hardly look him in the eyes. _

“I missed these freckles on your face, you know.” Baz said. “They always remind me of the constellations you showed me that night in our room.” 

He used to say such awful things to me back when I had a purpose, or when I actually made myself useful for something. Why is he being so nice to me now? 

He cups my cheek. I can feel his breath against my lips, and it’s almost enough to make me shove him. I’m going to end this now, before he has to change his mind, or before he realizes thatI’ve been a fraud this whole time. 

But then  _ he _ kisses  _ me,  _ and I couldn’t pull away if I tried. 

**Baz**

Now  _ this  _ is what I was hoping the night would lead to. We’ve barely touched these past few weeks, and it’s been killing me slowly, one awkward conversation at a time. But finally, I’ve got Snow exactly where I want him—in my arms willingly and enthusiastically. The only thing that could make tonight better is if he would  _ talk  _ to me, and allow me soothe whatever pain he’s been feeling. But he’s got his tongue in my mouth, so I’d be damned if tonight isn’t deemed a success. 

He’s shifted on top of me now, so he’s straddling my hips and wrapping his tail around my thigh. The scent of him is intoxicating, and he surely hasn’t forgotten how to kiss me senseless. He's doing that thing with his chin again—rhythmically moving it up and down. I’m sure that my knees would give in if I were standing up right now. 

We break apart for a moment, to catch our breath and let the weight of our actions sink in. I look up, and I become drunk at the sight of him: face flushed, bronze curls spilling out everywhere, and bright red wings splayed out like he’s ready to take flight. I know he hides them now, like he’s ashamed. I’m so glad that I make him comfortable enough to not give any more of a damn. 

He goes back to kissing me, like he's becoming more and more desperate. His hands are tangled up in my hair, while mine are at his back. I slowly lift up his sweater, so that my hands can feel his bare skin. Simon’s still hot to the touch. Maybe he's not sweltering anymore, but he’ll always warm me up faster than anything. 

I'm about to pull his sweater off, when I feel him go still against me. His hands are stiff, like he's been frozen in time, and I panic for a moment, knowing exactly what will come next. 

He shoves himself off of me, huffing in defeat. I tried to console him, but he wouldn't let me get out a word. 

“What-”

“ _ No,  _ Baz. I’m done.” 

“Okay, but-”

“Stop  _ pushing  _ me.”

He’s turned away from me again, shoulders hunched and closed off. Everything about his body language says that he wants me to leave him alone, but I don’t know if I have the strength within me to do that. We were doing so well, I don’t know what I did to make him change courses so quickly. 

"I’m sorry, Simon. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

He turned even further away from me. 

“It’s just too much, okay? I-I-”

He stumbled, trying to make sense of what he’s feeling. I wait silently. 

“This just feels like so much. I just- I feel like I’m just dragging you down, like I’m just a shell of the person I used to be, and you’re holding on to me because you miss him.” 

“Simon, I’ve told you this already. Thousands of times. You’ve always been the one that I want, and no amount of magick or lack thereof is going to change that.” 

“How can you like this?!” He said, gesturing to himself. “How can you possibly like someone who sits on the couch all day drinking cider, while you’re off studying and partying with the best? Crowley, you’re off  _ doing  _ things with your life, Baz.” 

He was raising his voice, now. I can smell a fight from a mile away, even if he no longer emits smoke. 

“I want to be with you. There’s no way you’re ever going to change that.”

_ "Merlin  _ Baz, I don’t even know if I’m gay!” 

Snow stood up and crossed his arms. 

“Are you not attracted to me? Is that what this is about?”

He looked away from me. I know it’s because he’s started crying. 

“No.  _ No.”  _ He tugged hard on his curls. _ “ _ I’m attracted to you. Definitely, definitely attracted to you. That’s just… That’s what makes this all so scary.” 

I got up myself and touched his shoulder. Gently. I wasn’t sure how he would react, but he didn’t flinch away when my hand met his t-shirt. I lightly squeezed, trying to communicate my thoughts without saying them aloud. 

“I’m just always thinking. About the Mage. About Ebb. About  _ you.  _ I can’t really distract myself from it, when I’m not sitting in front of the telly, downing another can of cider. I just want to be free from all of this, and just feel like I can be with you without these  _ thoughts _ eating me up from the inside.” 

I tried to turn him around to face me, so that I could meet those two blue eyes with mine. He obliged, but didn’t shift his gaze from the ground. 

“Let’s not think then, yeah?” It’s how he used to go on for as long as he did—by never thinking anything through. I know we need to start addressing these issues, and really moving towards solving the root of them, but this is the first time he’s been open with me since I left Watford, and I don’t want to start forcing him anywhere further outside of his comfort zone just yet. We’re here together and we’re making progress, which is all that matters. It’s slow progress, albeit, but it’s progress nonetheless.

I put my other hand on his shoulder, hoping that he would relax the muscles he’s been tensing up. He did. Slowly, but he did. 

“Let’s just focus on one another right now, and worry about the rest later. You’re all I ever want, Simon. Your freckles, your curls and your stupidly irresistible charm.” 

He let out a weak laugh. I wiped the tears from his cheeks, and placed a gentle kiss on each one. 

“I want to.  _ Merlin  _ I want to,” 

I started rubbing his shoulders. I didn’t want to push him, not after this. 

“I just…what if this is a mistake, Baz?”

I kissed his forehead. “We’re bloody fucking disasters, the two of us. Bloody fucking disasters,” I said. “But please believe me when I say that this  _ is  _ what I want, and that out of all the mistakes I will make in my life,  _ this _ is the one that I won’t look back on with regret.” 

Simon let out another teary giggle. “I can’t believe you just admitted that you make mistakes.” 

“Well, they will be few and far between, you numpty.” 

He grabbed my other hand. “Thank you, though. This is what I want, too. It’s just…hard sometimes.” 

“I understand. We don’t have to do anything tonight, if you don’t want to.”

“I still want to do…things. Like, snog and stuff.” He blushed.

“I just, well, don’t know if I can go very far tonight. I don’t want to ruin this.” He sighed, and finally met my eyes. 

“You won’t ruin this,” I said. “But you’re the boss, okay? We’ll take it as slow as you need.” 

He pressed his face into my neck, and I could feel his warmth seep into my skin. I wrapped my arms around him, and let myself melt into the embrace. I don’t care how long it takes Simon to feel completely comfortable with intimacy. I’ve waited eight years to snog him, I can surely handle this. As long as he’s  _ here,  _ and willing to communicate what he’s feeling and how I can help. All I want is for him to be content, really. I can give up the rest. Nothing in my life has given me as much pure, incessant joy as Simon Snow. 

I started moving my arms slowly up and down his back. He was going to be the one to initiate things tonight, and I’d be willing to do anything that he’d ask. 

We stayed in that position for a while, before Snow connected his lips with mine again. It was far less urgent this time, and he seemed to be relaxing all of the muscles he was tensing. I think I like it better that way, since this relationship had such a lighting-fast beginning. We never really had the chance to take it slow and just enjoy each other. 

We kept at it, kissing like we’re just starting to explore each other’s mouths. I guess we are rediscovering the territory, since it has been an awfully long while since we did this last. We ended up in the bedroom, after a while. I’m shocked we made it all the way there, fumbling around like a pair of drunks, barely disconnecting long enough to breathe. We kept each other steady, though. I leaned on him, and he did the same with me. 

We’re tucked under the covers now. We’re both in our boxers, but I’m wearing his Legend of Zelda t-shirt, and he’s chosen to sleep without one. The kissing came to a gradual stop, as our lips were starting to become sore and bruised. I think being close to him makes me just as ecstatic as the snogging, anyways. His chest is pressed against my back, giving me a layer of heat to sink into. His wings are tucked in behind him, but he’ll let one start to flutter if I trace my fingertips down his arms wrapped around my waist. It’s calm and relaxed, but still manages to make me feel weak in every part of my body. Snow has not only made me soft, but he’s managed to turn me into a sap, too.

It’s getting harder to stay awake, though. After the long drive, our emotionally taxing conversation and my inevitable adrenaline crash, I’m fighting to keep my eyes open. It doesn’t help that Simon still contains furnace-level warmth, and that his scent fills every inch of the room. I barely have enough energy to roll over and kiss the mole on his neck. 

“Are you ready to fall asleep, love?” I ask. 

He nods his head sheepishly, and catches my lips. This feels like that night in my room in Hampshire, and all of the nights where I would be able to sneak away from Watford just to see him. Back when the reality of our situation had yet to really hit us, and Simon’s head had yet to convince him that he’s less than worthy of my affection. 

“Yeah, sleep sounds nice.” 

I give him one last kiss before letting the darkness fully encompass me. 

“Sweet dreams, Simon Snow—the greatest mistake I will ever make.” 


End file.
